Answer:
Never ahead, ever behind, yet flying swiftly past, for a child, I last forever, for adults, I'm gone too fast.
I break away from my pack. I create holes in my victims. I can travel for miles and then disappear. I am part of a dying breed. What am I?
The sun bakes me, the hand breaks me, the foot treads on me, and the mouth tastes me. What am I?
If a plane crashes on the border of US and Canada where do they bury the survivors?
To cross the water, I'm the way. For water I'm above, I touch it not and truth to say, I neither swim nor move. What am I?
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?